


Not So Secret Santa

by going_going_gone



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Domestic Bliss, Holiday Shopping, M/M, Maybe an AU, Merry Christmas, maybe just post movie and optimistic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 08:29:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2844605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/going_going_gone/pseuds/going_going_gone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Domestic bliss, spilled secrets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not So Secret Santa

**Author's Note:**

  * For [notastranger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notastranger/gifts).



> This is my Pacrim Secret Santa gift, put on by tumblr user cypress-tree, who is a total babe.

Hermann’s fingers found warm skin just as the light became too much to ignore. Cracking open tired eyes, he watched the cramped bedroom fill up with early morning sun. The clock on the bedside table read 7 am, later than he was used to, and the memory of panic flickered through his body before he remembered he didn’t have any classes today. Because today was...well, he wasn’t exactly sure, but his internal clock was telling him he was fine.

The confusion that came with waking up was fading fast, and things were falling into line. With a small groan, Hermann sat up, rubbing his eyes. His fidgeting made the lump of comforter and hair grumble sleepily. He smiled unconsciously, reaching out and digging a finger into what was hopefully a shoulder. The response he got was adorable, and the squinty vision that was Newton Geiszler peeked out from under the blankets.

“Hermann, just because you have no need for sleep doesn’t mean no one else does,” he complained, voice hoarse.

“It’s already seven in the morning, Newton. That’s definitely enough sleep for a young male your age. Aren’t you rather familiar with neuroscience? This is fact.”

“I’ll have you know that the time you go to bed sort of has an impact on that sort of thing. And, as you’ll recall, you and me...well, there wasn’t much shut-eye going on last night,” Newt pointed out, managing a wicked smile while also looking particularly bedraggled. Hermann had to admit he had a suggestive smile ready at any time.

“You are truly disgusting,” Hermann admonished, shoving him away. But Newton wouldn’t be repelled. With a grin he swooped in, all sleep deprived complaints forgotten, hands groping and thoroughly inappropriate. He’d managed to work his cold hands into the waistline of the other man’s pyjamas before Hermann was able to stop him.

“Absolutely not, Newton.”

“What do you have against morning sex?”

“You’re vulgarity is not helping your case,” Hermann advised, frowning for all he was worth. “Now, it’s rather late to be just getting up, and I need some tea before I have to deal with you anymore!”

Newton launched himself off the bed, completely naked, sure that this wasn’t what Hermann had in mind. It wasn’t, but it was a small victory by any means, so as Newton danced around triumphantly Hermann folded back the covers, himself adequately clothed, and tried extremely hard not to cast a single glance the idiot’s way.

Said idiot didn’t seem to notice until Hermann left the room. By the time he came out, wearing a pair of blessed boxer shorts, Hermann was busy in the kitchen.

Newton’s kitchen had no system of organization before Hermann came along. It hadn’t been uncommon to find the peanut butter nestled in between to precarious piles of mismatched dishware, and for much too long he’d kept his medicine very close to the cleaning supplies. Now, with the help of Hermann’s need for order, the cabinets were rather pristine. He pulled down the tea, leaning heavily on his cane, wondering just why it was kept to high up. Hermann could hardly reach it, and Newton was definitely not taller than him.

When he finally got it down, Newton had leaned up against the fridge, wearing a rather odd looking expression on his face.

“Are you alright? You look ill.”

“What? No, I was trying to look seductive!” he exclaimed, sentence ending in a distinctive Geiszlerian squeak.

“Don’t try that again,” Hermann demanded, rolling his eyes.

“Okay, Mr. Bedroom-Eyes.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked, turning back to the tea so Newt couldn’t see his smile.

“Only that when you’re trying to seduce me you kinda look like your eyes were glued shut and you’re trying to pry them open.”

“Now, that’s just rude,” Hermann snapped, setting down two mugs with a little too much force. “Also, I can’t seem to recall the last time I tried to seduce you.”

“Last friday. You thought you were being subtle, but Tendo texted my the next day asking me how it was.”

Hermann gasped, scandalized. “Tell me you didn’t answer!” he exclaimed.

“Of course I did. Tendo’s my friend. What’s a little bedroom talk between friends?”

“You are incorrigible.”

“But you love me!”

Hermann only grumbled in reply, shuffling over to the stove, flicking on the burner and plopping down the kettle.

“I don’t know why you bother with that. We have a microwave.”

“I don’t think you understand just how blasphemous you sound when you say things like that. What if I suggested that you sell your blasted records. You never listen to them. They’re just a status symbol.”

“They’re vintage,” Newton insisted, voice sufficiently horrified.

"Now you know how I feel," he answered.

"Oh, you really love the logical high-ground don't you?" Newt asked.

"Quite."

Before Newton could comment any further, the kettle began whistling, the shrill whine cutting through the kitchen. Both men winced.

Hermann turned off the burner, pouring the boiled water over the tea bags. Newt peeked over his shoulders, watching the water darken.

“Sugar?”

“Oh, Newt’s fine,” he assured him, patting his shoulder.

“Not funny,” Hermann growled. “Do you want sugar or not?”

“Yeah, gimme a bunch, and some milk.”

Hermann rolled his eyes again, obviously trying to pretend Newt’s beverage preferences weren’t much too similar to a small girl, or an elderly grandmother. he spooned a bit of sugar into the larger mug.

Newt, milk carton in hand, shoved in beside him, sending Hermann into a precarious lean that was only remedied with some fancy maneuvering.

“You are a child, Newton!” he growled, stirring in the sugar. Newt smiled, reaching over him and pouring too much milk into both of their mugs.

“But like, a sexy, tattooed genius child, right?” he asked.

“No, no, not at all.”

With the meticulous care he granted almost everything, Hermann cradled his own mug over to the kitchen table setting it down and slumping into the chair. Newton followed closely behind, although there was a bit more tea on the ground after his walk.

“I’m going Christmas shopping with Tendo today,” Newt mentioned, trying to make it sound off-hand.

“Oh? I thought you’d already gotten my gift?”

“What? Who told you?” Newt exclaimed.

“Who do you think? Raleigh couldn’t keep his mouth shut if he wanted to,” Hermann said, smiling affectionately.

“Well, did he tell you what I got?”

“Oh, no, I didn’t ask.”

“You’re unnatural. What kind of person wouldn’t take advantage of a oppurtunity like that?”

“I thought you’d want it to be a surprise. I was trying to be nice,” Hermann scolded, taking a sip of his tea. Newt shrugged. “So, if you’re not buying my gift, what are you doing?”

“Tendo met this girl last week, Alison something. He wants to make some grand romantic gesture to ask her out. She works at Macy’s.”

“Tell me how that works out,” Hermann chuckled.

“Why, what are you doing?”

“Unlike some people, I use my free time to do actual work.”

“I’m sorry, but anyone who uses Sunday morning to do math is just deranged.”

“Your constant need to under represent my work is insulting. I don’t compare your research to the dissections high school students perform on frogs.”

“Right, well…” Newt began, and when he couldn't find a single thing to say, he downed his tea. Now, this might sound simple, straightforward and full-proof, but about halfway through his throat closed up, and the tea spewed out of his mouth like a geyser.

This resulted in two soaking wet scientists glaring across the table at each other.

“I know, I know, I’m an idiot!” Newton growled, pulling off his dripping glasses.

“My idiot,” Hermann muttered, letting his affection lessen the annoyance.

“Well, can this idiot help you take off those wet clothes?”

There was that awkward smile that tried for innuendo and landed on constipation.

“We will not be having sex. You have some elaborate date thing to help Tendo set up, and I have some...math to do.”

“Sure, right whatever.”

“I mean it Newton!”

“I didn’t say we would!”

**“Go!”**


End file.
